


Not On

by Sarcophagus



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcophagus/pseuds/Sarcophagus
Summary: Cavendish jumps to conclusions. Vinnie has an idea.





	Not On

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to "Take Those Lips Away".

Another day, another failure.

They sat side by side on a park bench, watching the birds. At least Vinnie was. Cavendish mostly brooded. He was always bummed out for a while after a mission fell through.

"I'm sick of all this," he grumbled.

Vinnie patted his back. No need to ask what all this was. Personally he felt their luck had to turn some day. A century or two should do it. He chewed over the thought, idly stroking Cavendish's neck with his thumb while his mind struggled with the laws of probability.

"Stop it." Abruptly Cavendish shook off Vinnie's hand and scooted sideways all the way to the end of the bench, as if his sulking had shifted up a gear into anger.

"What's up with you?"

Cavendish didn't look angry in fact, just serious and a little sad. "Look, I'm not blaming you."

Huh. Not something Vinnie heard every day. He didn't get what he wasn't being blamed for, though.

"I've been tempted myself, to be honest. But it's just not on. There are standards. You understand, don't you?"

Unless he was talking about how often a track suit needed washing, a subject they couldn't seem to agree on, Vinnie didn't know what he meant by standards. "No, I don't."

His partner gave him a pained look. "Dakota, please don't cavil." He leaned forward and laid a hand on Vinnie's knee. To stop him caviling? Vinnie was too startled to ask. "I know it's hard, but we have to bear up and restrain ourselves. We're on a mission. Our conduct should be above reproach."

Vinnie found his voice. "Balthy, you're kneading my thigh."

Cavendish yanked his hand away like he'd touched a strip heater. "Yes. Er -- yes. What not to do. Either of us. You see?"

Finally Vinnie saw. Cavendish had gone pink. The flush spread from his face to his throat all the way under his collar. Like a signal. A signal that said, 'I _like_ like my partner'.

This was a headscratcher. He'd never thought of Cavendish like that. That Cavendish had been thinking of him like that and thought _he'd_ been thinking of him like that was...

...confusing. But flattering. Also definitely worth getting to the bottom of. His partner might not be the pick of the bunch, hotness-wise. But the thing was, there was no bunch. When Vinnie joined the agency his social life went down the toilet. He could hardly remember the last time he got some.

He couldn't either remember the last time he got his partner on board with any suggestion of his, but it was worth a shot.

"I think you've got this standards thing the wrong way round," he said.

"What do you mean?" Cavendish asked.

Vinnie sprawled on the bench, drawing up one leg in front of him. "If we want the mission to come off we need to up our game. You keep telling me I need to work out more. Well, you're too uptight. So what's relaxing and burns calories at the same time?"

His partner just stared at him. He could be a little slow sometimes.

"Sex," Vinnie explained. "Get it? It's like yoga and cardio in one --"

"I get it!" Cavendish snapped. "Do try to get it through your head that we cannot have a relationship. How do you suppose Mr. Block will react if we inform him we'll be field testing your theory of better agents through intercourse?"

Put like that Vinnie's idea sounded even more awesome. "What relationship? It's just a hookup."

Cavendish became thoughtful. "Nothing to report, you mean. A casual fling."

"Yeah. Casual. Like it's not even happening."

A small pause ensued. They both contemplated the view. Hungry house sparrows darted back and forth between the grass and the hedges. In a nearby tree a blackbird was singing, a full-throated joyous utterance saying, 'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me'.

Cavendish turned back to Vinnie. "Are you sure about this?"

He sounded almost timid, totally unlike himself. Something told Vinnie he wasn't talking about what Block would say any longer. "Sure I'm sure," he said. "I want to see what you look like in a good mood."

"All right then." Cavendish rose from the bench in a single brisk movement. "We'll try out Dakota yoga. How do you feel about reciprocity?" He got a blank look from Vinnie. "Taking turns."

He'd been planning ahead. Vinnie liked it. "I like it," he said. "Sounds fair."

"I agree, _Vincent_. And you may call me Balthazar."

"I already call you Balthy," said Vinnie.

"Precisely. Let's go."

Just for fun Vinnie held out his hand. To his amazement Cavendish took it and pulled him to his feet. He let go right away, but he was looking at Vinnie as if he was good to eat. The blackbird kept singing.

It's on, Vinnie thought happily.


End file.
